After the S V W Brewing for St Mungos
by Les Dowich
Summary: Albus is trying to rehabilitate Severus and introduce him into the new post-war society, kicking and screaming, if necessary. St Mungos feels that any Potions Master is better than no Potions Master at all!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 01 -

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore made his way down to the dungeons to check on his favourite professor. The weeks leading up to the proposed start of the new term had been very tiring, even more tiring than the actual battle where so many had died. There had been so much to do and so little time as the wizarding world had staggered on its heels in the aftermath of the Second Voldemort War. The physical damage to the school had been bad enough but the damage to the entity, Hogwarts, the consciousness the castle had developed over a thousand years of magical ambiance was horrendous. Acting as father confessor and parent to a traumatised castle really took it out of an old man, and Albus had to admit - no matter how privately - he was a very old man now. Still, while the wizarding world needed him, he would find the wherewithal necessary to carry on.

Severus, the man he thought of as his son, had almost been taken from him permanently, too. Azkaban had been very unkind to Severus, more so than most people these days, leaving him a hollow shell of himself. Although, in hindsight, the Ministry and then St Mungo's had been even worse. Despite the ex-Death Eater having survived being brain-blasted at the Ministry, a rogue Medi-wizard had tortured Severus while he was still unconscious and all but killed him.

Sometimes, it seemed the Fates had a special dislike for Severus and were determined to see how far they could push him before he broke completely. Still, the younger man had survived and even rebuilt his mind enough to start writing a definitive guide to potions ingredients, if only to prove he could still remember. Unfortunately, he had left almost twenty years of his emotional growth behind and was right back to the emotional mindset of his mid-twenties, an unfortunate age for Severus.

Albus waited without expectation for the strange little Snape Family House-elf, Levil, to let him into the Potions Master's quarters. Levil was not like the Hogwarts elves who were helpful and excitable, he was well spoken and gravely reserved. He had volunteered to help look after Severus when he was all but catatonic when they first rescued him from St Mungo's. Albus himself has gone out to the decaying Snape Family Estates to ask for a house-elf to assist and was amazed that the chief House-elf had asked for volunteers. Levil had been the most qualified elf and had caused chaos when he first arrived, ignoring the Chief Hogwarts house-elf, cooking Severus' meals and cleaning his quarters and generally demanding full autonomy over Professor Snape's domestic arrangements. If Albus was a nervy type of person, the watchful alertness of the very composed elf would unnerve him as it let him in and went to touch Severus' arm gently, alerting the younger man to his presence.

Unexpectedly, Severus rose and came over, taking the comfortably worn wingchair opposite the headmaster and staring at the table until the house-elf made tea and biscuits appear. There were also small salmon and cucumber sandwiches, as well as bite-sized quiches and a cheese board, much more than the mandatory pot of tea and plate of plain digestives the house-elf usually produced. Earl Grey poured itself into the headmaster's teacup while a separate pot poured thick Russian Caravan into what could only be described as a 'gazunda' decorated with a black cauldron that filled with green potion as the tea was poured.

"Well, Severus, and how do you feel this afternoon?" Albus asked the same rhetorical question he always asked, helping himself to some afternoon tea.

"I finished my catalogue and have not lost any of my knowledge concerning plants, their harvesting and preparing for potions," Severus reported and Albus detected a smug note in the soft voice, which made him smile.

"That's wonderful, my boy, but it does not tell me how you feel yourself."

Black eyes flicked up to meet blue and a small nod ensued. "Better."

"Do you feel up to teaching NEWTs level potions, is the real question. Minerva and I have been planning the new school year curriculum and feel that, if you can manage NEWTs level, it would be beneficial to have someone in to teach years one to five. This would give you more time to brew potions of a more… challenging… nature." Albus continued to sip his tea in silence as Severus considered his words. After a long pause he added, "St Mungo's has asked if you can brew some specialised and experimental potions for the war wounded, if you are up to it."

Severus' head came up fast, his glare enough to melt paint at five feet. "I wouldn't brew for St Mungo's if it was…" He drew a deep breath and continued to glare at Albus when the old man chuckled indulgently. Finally he followed the headmaster's gaze and felt a faint flush of colour heat his ears. His wild magic had turned one wall to a sheet of solid ice. Snorting in disgust, he deliberately waved a hand and banished the residue with an emphatic flick. Taking a deep breath, he let it out in one long sigh. "Can I think about it? I do not particularly like St Mungo's at the moment." His expression turned ugly for a moment or two before smoothing out again.

"Certainly, my boy, but think quickly as I need to locate a Potions Honorarium to assist you. Professor Slughorn has not returned and indeed, is nowhere to be found. He left a card saying he had had enough of teaching and all the excitement and was going to retire to the country for his health so I assume he has done that."

Severus snorted inelegantly. "Done a runner, has he?" he muttered, then nodded resignedly. "Very well, get in the Honorarium to teach the dunderheads and I will teach the sixth and seventh years and also brew for St Mungo's. Just have them send a list of what they need. I do not feel like facing the public just yet, especially not bloody so-called healers."

"Thank you, my child. I am sure they will appreciate it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hi guys, just a quick word of appreciation for everyone who has tuned in to this little odd-bod story. I was frankly amazed by how many added it to their following list, in a most gratified way, of course. LOL. I plan to update this more than once a week as it is just a short thing with small chapters (sorry about that) Hope you continue to enjoy. Regards, Les

**Chapter 02 -**

The potions list from St Mungo's duly arrived, only a dozen special requests but each potion as complex and challenging as any Severus could have picked. He shook his head as he read the ingredients he would need, a snarl of disgust when he realised he was short quite a few of the less 'savoury' items.

"Isn't it ironic that the 'Holier than Thou' healers of St Mungo's have to ask a disgustingly Dark ex-Death Eater to brew their precious potions rather than get their own lily-white hands dirty with such Dark brewing, isn't it? You do realise that Hogwarts is going to take exception if I start brewing Severing Solution in the dungeons, don't you, Old Man?" he demanded on the headmaster's daily visit. "It is considered a 'Dark' potion, not suitable for a 'Light' wizard to be mucking about with." The sarcasm was so thick it was almost tangible.

Albus smiled knowingly. "Now, now, my child, do you not remember brewing just that potion not ten years ago, in this very dungeon?" he asked gently.

Severus coloured faintly and turned away with a snarl then turned back. "How did you know?" he demanded.

"Nothing happens in Hogwarts that I don't know about… or rather, very little," he amended quickly when Severus opened his mouth to refute the statement hotly. "Peace, peace!" He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Do you want to go shopping in Diagon Alley or do you want to owl in an order?"

"The places where I need to go to pick up the fingernails of an axe murderer do not deal in the owl trade," Severus muttered with dignity. "And I very much doubt I will find my needs on Diagon Alley, either," he added with a sigh.

"When do you want to go?"

oo0oo

Robintons The Apothecary was booming when Severus slipped into the front door and looked around carefully. It was the biggest Apothecary supply house in Great Britain and carried the largest range of ingredients, even those bordering on Dark. An assistant hurried across with a helpful smile that dissolved when he realised who was under the dark hooded cloak. A discrete signal brought the General Manager out from his office to wait on the prestigious but dangerous customer.

"My Lord, how may I serve?" Rory Johannsen asked obsequiously, rubbing his hands together. He glanced over the list of ingredients he was offered with the eye of a connoisseur. "Humm, interesting… everything but the blood of a vampire… might be tricky, most of the Old Families left during the war. How soon do you need it?"

"Next week, I start brewing tomorrow and hope to have all orders filled by the end of the month."

"Big job, who… Not my business." The old man laughed uneasily as a wave of cold air came from the customer. "Where?"

"Hogwarts."

"Ye-es, my Lord, cer-certainly… Goodbye."

Severus glided away, his cloak billowing as he left the shop and slid down toward Knockturn Alley, the shadows greeting him like an old friend. Slipping into an unmarked doorway, he murmured a spell and flowed into a shop, the password neutralising the door curse. A lone counter of black wood occupied half the space in the tiny shop, the rest taken up by shelves of bottles and jars which looked ominous but were purely for show. The real business was conducted in the rear of the shop, if the customer was legitimate.

A tiny, wizened woman nodded a greeting and lifted the curtain aside so that the tall man could pass into the inner sanctuary with no further identification. Inside, the smoke from burning incense almost suffocated until Severus cast a discrete bubblehead charm, the tiny movement causing a low chuckle from the mound of silk pillows.

"Welcome, my friend, how are you faring?" The voice was melodious and sweet, unlike the face that emerged from the shadows, lined, scarred and bloated. One glance at the ruined features was usually enough for people to run away screaming, the ravages of plague very recognisable. The curse was a very dark one, almost an Unforgivable as it was not only virulent but was contagious, passed on by a mere touch. Paul Demarchant had been cursed early in the first Voldemort War while trying to stay neutral. Severus had been furious when he learned that his best contact for the esoteric ingredients he needed to brew Abraxas' potions had been so cursed. It had taken some very fancy research to create a cure for the first part of the curse, as the time frame was very short. Severus had succeeded in creating the potion but the damage had been done and Paul needed a very specific support potion to stay alive. They had been friends of a sort ever since.

"I have been better," Severus replied with an honesty that was usually missing from his interactions with people.

"Haven't we all? Heard you were dead but, as there was no staked carcass, I didn't believe it."

Sniggering, Severus took a seat opposite, kneeling gracefully and settling his robes around himself. "Sceptic! How have you been, Paul, staying out of trouble?"

"With all the paranoia going around, what else is there to do? It's getting so that anyone wearing a glamour is instantly suspect and liable to be harassed by those jackasses they call Aurors."

"Yes, better to be a notorious Death Eater openly than try to conceal who you are these days. Have you enough support potion to keep you comfortable?"

"Thank you, yes. My son brews it perfectly to your recipe and he is getting very good, takes his Honorarium examinations next year," the man said proudly. "Of course, he always has access to the best of ingredients, which does help, so I'm told."

"Indeed it does, and your range is such that anyone who even pretends to be a brewer is guaranteed to receive exactly what he needs."

"Humm, tricky one then," the man muttered with a smirk. "Let me guess, blood of a vampire and fingernails of an axe murderer, yes?"

Snorting, the Potions Master nodded once, a list appearing in his hand. "Been listening to a little bird, then?"

"Children well placed in unexpected positions," the man agreed obliquely. "When a recommendation is asked, it is good to give the name of the best and it is a bonus if the best is also a friend."

Nodding acceptance of the implied compliment and vote of confidence, Severus continued to enjoy the society of the man in the shadows, an old and trusted companion, source of information and a very profitable contact.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 03 -

The Great Hall was well lit when Severus decided to show his face for the first time since his release from St Mungo's. Students were due to arrive in less than a week and it was about time he released himself from his imposed isolation. A startled row of faces at the head table almost made it worth his while as he stalked forward, glaring impartially at the headmaster and headmistress, taking a seat on Dumbledore's left as was his accustomed place. Minerva saluted him with her goblet as he seated himself, Dumbledore beaming brightly before clapping his hands to bring on the food.

"Severus, have you met Robert Markowicz, our new Potions Honorarium. He will be teaching years one to five and will report to you if there is a problem."

Turning, Severus surveyed the new fellow, taking in the bright gold hair, twinkling blue eyes and small goatee beard. His robes were blue, his Honorarium badge embroidered on the left shoulder and his hand held out to greet his new Master.

"Looks like that blistering idiot, Lockhart. Who chose him? Has anyone checked his qualifications?" Severus sneered, eyeing the man with distaste.

"Now, Severus, of course we checked his qualifications. He is in the College of Potions Makers honour roll and he comes highly recommended by Beauxbatons where he was teaching for two years." The headmaster shot his newest member of staff an apologetic glance as he spoke to the incumbent Potions Master.

Robert decided to be magnanimous to the curmudgeon who was going to be his new boss while at Hogwarts, hoping to make a good impression. "I am honoured, Sir. I am looking forward to working with you and learning from you even as I am teaching the younglings their first potions," he gushed, the smile almost flattering as the younger man surveyed his hand as if it might be dangerous.

"Be in the dungeons tomorrow morning and we will see," Severus grunted, turning away and addressing a plate of salmon and vegetables, ignoring everyone totally.

"Severus!" Minerva chided gently. "Be nice."

He only grunted.

oo0oo

Markowicz proved to be proficient enough to suit Severus' standards, although woefully ignorant and uninspired in the art of potions brewing. As ordered, Robert arrived at the potions classroom as soon as breakfast was over the next day, prepared to answer any question Snape asked, a folder of certificates and merit orders in his hand. Severus glanced though the paperwork then tossed them aside contemptuously. Then began a session of question and answer such as the Honorarium had never experienced before. When the gruelling two hour verbal grilling was finished, Snape demanded he prove his knife and stirring techniques while firing situation problems at the man and demanding he answer without losing count of stirring or beating. It was the hardest examination Markowicz had ever done and at the end, all he received was a single sniff of disgust. Glaring at the man, Robert gathered his papers before stalking out.

Severus completely ignored the man as he began the long and tedious preparation of the potions ingredients he had acquired in Diagon Alley. Of the twelve requested potions, nine were simply complicated and tedious to prepare, requiring a long and slow simmer time, many complex stirring patterns and a few rather interesting timings. Three, however, required all of the above plus ingredients that were both dark and semi-illegal, only the stamp of St Mungo's approval on the order making it permissible for Snape to brew the potions at all. Not that such a small technicality would have stopped him, he told Albus one afternoon as he added ground Dragon Scales one gram at a time.

"If any of my acquaintances had needed this particular potion, then I would brew it without a thought," he added, tapping a gold stirring rod twice in rapid succession on the side of the cauldron. "The only reason it is considered illegal is because it needs a drop of the recipient's blood to activate it before it is swallowed. Stupid blood rule!"

"And if it doesn't have that single drop of blood?" Albus asked curiously.

Severus pulled the old man back from where he leaned precariously over the cauldron, cursing his curiosity under his breath. "Well… yes… I suppose it is one of the deadliest poisons I can create without resorting to dark creatures or poisonous reptiles," he temporised thoughtfully, looking a little hurt when Albus burst out laughing.

"Ah, my boy, you are so true to yourself." Albus chuckled, clapping his shoulder gently. "Take care now, we do have students again and you know how curious they can be?"

"Indeed, wretchedly creeping little dunderheads." Snape snarled, remembering his meeting with the new intake. As head of Slytherin House it was his job to make sure the new Slytherins upheld the House Honour and knew the in-house rules before the rest of the school corrupted them. The old hands knew what was expected and quickly pulled the younger ones into line, the peer support of older to younger already in place and set to protect the babies from the rest of the school. Slytherins did, indeed, travel in packs for their own protection.

"How much longer will it be before these potions are ready for transport to St Mungo's?" Albus asked, drawing his mind back to the task in hand.

"Perhaps another week," Severus estimated carefully. "They cannot be transported by any but mechanical means, you realise?" he added, picking up a flask of Unicorn blood and judiciously measuring out one and a half drops.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No Floo, no Portkey, no Apparition, they need to be physically carried and delivered, train is probably best, although horseback was always recommended in the older times, which is why the brewer usually went to the victim or vice versa, if the brewer might be threatened by the victim's enemies."

"Really? What a fascinating insight into the history of Potions. I thought the brewer travelled to the victim because it was part of the Master's code."

The look Severus gave him was so old fashioned, it had moss on it. Albus had the grace to blush.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 04 -

"…Death Eater. Should have gone to Azkaban but…" The braying voice held an almost hysterical note as it escalated in volume and venom.

"Premier Death Eater," Kingsley Shacklebolt said from his position behind the Daily Prophet, his feet on his desk.

The low tone seemed to squash all noise as it echoed around the Aurory. The rustle of robes heralded a concerted turn toward his relaxed position. Sighing deeply, he lowered a corner of his paper to peer at his counterparts. "Premier Death Eater and Order Spy for twenty odd years, got more balls than your average bowling alley, assuming you were referring to Severus Snape, that is?"

"How would you know?" The brayer turned out to be Auror corporal Aliatus Parkinson, one of the Light Parkinsons, who seemed to be more fanatically light to compensate for the fact that most of the Parkinsons were Dark and his niece had played an infamous part in the last battle.

Kingsley cast a wandless _manifesto fulgoris_ and the phoenix tattoo on his shoulder flickered to light causing an almost reverent hiss of appreciation amongst his fellow Aurors. "I served with him for seven years," the Auror sergeant said flatly. "Severus is a nasty piece of work; mean, sarcastic and bitter but he is Order and has been Order longer than almost anyone still living. He bears the mark of the Order and I would trust him with my life, _have_ trusted him with my life on many occasions." Kingsley slammed his feet to the floor and stood up so abruptly that people stumbled back in shock. "You, Parkinson, are going to accompany me in guarding our favourite Spy while he delivers potions to St Mungo's and if you so much as squeak out of turn then I personally will twist your arms off, without the aid of a spell, understand me?"

Parkinson's look of terror and horror was priceless!

oo0oo

The three crates were carefully loaded onto a wheeled trolley and pushed from the dungeon. Severus was quite happy with his solution until he came to the first set of stairs. Some twenty minutes later the hot and sweaty Potions Master had physically carried the three crates up to the Great Hall and was leaning against a wall panting heavily when Professor Dumbledore appeared at his elbow.

"My dear boy, you should have asked for help." The old man tutted as he drew his wand. He was shocked when his Potions Master ripped it from his hand with an anguished cry of 'no'!

"No magic! Not if you want your precious school to remain standing!" Snape snapped furiously, waving his arms and stepping up to protect his crates with his body if necessary.

"My most sincere apologies," Dumbledore bowed with that damned twinkle in his eye.

"I have charmed the crates to be magic repellent so that the ambient magic cannot penetrate but even that charm will not protect the contents against the interference of old coots who DO NOT UNDERSTAND SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS," he bellowed, all but stamping his feet in his tantrum. Huffing furiously, Severus loaded the crates back onto their trolley and began to haul them into the Great Hall.

"Er, Severus, can I have my wand back?" the headmaster asked humbly as the irate man left his burden and stomped into his place for breakfast.

Severus glanced at the wand clutched firmly in his fist then growled as he thrust it out to its owner, a faint flush of pink washing his cheeks. "Sorry," he muttered grudgingly.

"Quite all right, my boy. Have you arranged your journey satisfactorily?"

"I thought so until the Ministry insisted I needed an escort," Snape growled, eyeing his kipper as if it was offending him. "Bloody Aurors, noses where it doesn't concern them, pain in the backside, never content to leave well enough alone…" He continued to mutter and complain all through breakfast, much to the Headmaster's amusement.

When Shacklebolt and Parkinson arrived less than an hour later, Severus had managed to work out most of his temper on the surrounding staff and students and was in a less vicious temper with coffee and kippers inside him. Shacklebolt he could stand, a plain spoken man of good principle and a loyal Order member, the other was Parkinson, a complete waste of space. Pointedly ignoring the second Auror, Severus instructed Kingsley on the handling of the crates, assigning the two larger to the Aurors and keeping the smaller one for himself.

They loaded the crates and themselves into a thestral drawn carriage and were quickly whisked off to meet the eight-thirty Express to London. Settling into a compartment, Snape pulled a book from his pocket, engorged it and settled to read the journey away. Shacklebolt copied him almost action for action but Parkinson had obviously forgotten to bring along some sort of time filling entertainment. By the time the journey was half over, Severus had had enough and hexed him into immobility, Shacklebolt merely nodding his thanks to the older man before both returned their attention to their books.

As the train pulled into Kings Cross station, Shacklebolt released the spell and shook his head as his Corporal began to berate them both impartially, shaking the pins and needles out of his legs and hands.

"Serves you right for being a whiner," Kingsley said indifferently and picked up his crate carefully. "Shall we go now?"

"Indeed, I have arranged for a carriage to take us straight to St Mungo's," Snape said pleasantly, his bad mood completely cured.

"A carriage?" Shacklebolt questioned as they exited the station on the Muggle side then stopped dead.

"Oh, don't worry, the Muggle repelling charms are excellent." Severus reassured him off-handedly.

A magnificent coach and four stood in the bus loading bay, the matched grey horses nodding and bowing their heads, the black coachwork gleaming in the weak autumn sunshine. A gold crest on the door declared it a Snape carriage and the coachmen wore hereditary Snape livery. As soon as the three men approached, one of the footman jumped down and threw open the door, putting down the steps and curving an arm to assist them to enter. The second footman hurried over to relieve the men of their burdens but was waved away by the tall, black clad man.

"Nothing like being inconspicuous, is there?" Parkinson jibed as he snuggled down in the butter soft leather upholstery.

"You would prefer a Muggle transport?" Snape asked as the footman awaited instruction. "St Mungo's, and no sudden jolts."

"Of course, my Lord," the man murmured with a bow and disappeared a second before the coach pulled away from the curb smoothly.

"This is a beautiful carriage, Severus," Kingsley said, stroking the silk lining beside his head.

"My great-grandfather had it commissioned in 1850 for his mistress. The stable staff were very pleased to get it out and use it. Carriages need a bit of use to preserve them properly," Snape replied casually. "The horses are a breed the family has developed over time; good for pulling or heavy hunting but not for hacking."

"OOh, lar-di-dah!" Parkinson muttered in falsetto tones making his fellow passengers shake their heads in disgust.

"Couldn't you find anyone who was better company, or at least semi-intelligent?" Snape asked in disgust.

"Sorry, I thought… but then, I was often the optimist, wasn't I?" Shacklebolt sniffed and shook his head as the carriage drew up in front of the wizarding hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 05 –

The staff entrance to St Mungo's was not concealed as it was on Diagon Alley, no one looking twice at the magnificent coach as it drew to a perfectly smooth halt outside the double doors. As soon as the three men had disembarked, the coachman and footmen jumped down, the footmen taking two padded cat carriers each and the coachman picking up a rectangular carved box not unlike a jewellery box. A wave of the wand and the horses were shrunk to the size of toy poodles and put in the carriers. A wave of the coachman's wand and the carriage became a tiny model of itself that was carefully laid into the jewellery box. All three men bowed to Lord Snape then Disapparated with never a blink, taking their transport with them.

Picking up the smallest crate, Severus swept into the foyer of St Mungo's with never a backward look, Shacklebolt and Parkinson hard on their heels. A flustered receptionist quickly sent message and the Potions Master of St Mungo's came hurrying down to greet his counterpart with a flurry of robes.

"So good of you to come, Master Snape. You have no idea how much we need these potions," the man gushed, almost drooling on the three crates.

"Why didn't you just brew them yourself, Woodwhistle, or didn't you want to get your hands dirty?" Snape jibed bitterly, making the man glare sourly.

"Humph! Where would I get the time? Do you have any idea what it's like around here? Brew this, concoct that, no time to experiment or waste on drawn out processes, unlike some."

"And I suppose you have no under-staff who can do the day-to-day brewing? No, no one to ease the burden on poor little you; or perhaps it is a lack of competence that keeps you from completing such an involved set of brewing. I seem to recall your predecessor managing quite nicely with minimal help from outside sources."

"Until your lot killed him at the charity concert!"

"As I recall, he was killed in a raid by rogue Death Eaters and the Dark Lord was most disgusted with them, tortured and killed the lot of them for their stupidity, or rather, those I failed to kill first. Are we done having fun yet? I have a perfectly good dungeon to get back to."

"No, not yet, but I think we can lay off the insults for a while," the man smiled crookedly and sighed. "How _are_ you keeping, Severus? I heard about the Azkaban incident, bloody stupid Ministry. And I must apologies for the conduct of our Medi-wizard; he has been banned from practice here and sent to man the clinic at Azkaban. They needed a healer posted up there so it was the perfect way to utilise his talents, put him in Azkaban without having to sentence him."

"Indeed, a neat solution that didn't involve the Ministry or the Wizengamot. I am recovering. What do you need Severing Solution for?"

"A creeping curse. The surgeons remove the affected area but it just reappears, then they have to take a bit more. I told them, take a bit extra but what do I know? I'm no expert in Dark Curses and you are, see what you can do."

The two Aurors who had been following the incipient fight with carefully hidden surprise were flabbergasted when the two men swept off, black and green robes swirling in eerily similar ways. "Now that was surreal," Kingsley said softly as he picked up his crate again. "Come on, Parkinson, let's go."

The two Potions Masters were standing side-by-side peering down at a man who writhed and twisted on his bed; sweat slicking his hair against his head. Snape flipped the coverings back unceremoniously and waved his wand in a complex pattern. The spell highlighted an odd, metallic green haze over what remained of the man's lower right leg, gathered near the stump. Severus shook his head and pointed to a place above the knee joint, a long way from the mid shin haze.

"You will have to take it off by there and soon. If I remember the explanation properly, the curse sends out tendrils of magic finer than spider silk that are all but undetectable. When enough tendrils are in place and the curse reaches critical mass, it is finally detectable but by then, it has already sent out further tentacles. It was an insidious and usually fatal curse. He will be beyond saving, once it gets into his trunk. Interesting that he survived that one, usually Bellatrix's little surprises are fatal."

"Lestrange cast this curse?" a new voice asked angrily.

"Looks like one of her little inventions so I would assume so. Very few of the others had the twist of mind to copy her. If nothing else she was a brilliant inventor of charms and hexes, mad as a meataxe I grant you, but brilliant," the man said contemplatively, flipping the covers back over Bellatrix's victim.

There was a concerted shiver in the room, the newly arrived St Mungo's staff drawing back from the tall, pale man who seemed to radiate coldness into the room. Parkinson had his wand half out but a strong grip on his wrist made him release it, as Kingsley made his displeasure at his impulsiveness known. A few seconds later the Chief Surgeon entered the room, making the lesser staff scurry away as he became engrossed in a very technical and somewhat macabre discussion about torture, surgery and dark curses.

"It is up to you, of course, but you asked my expert advice and I have given it. If you don't like it, don't follow it but be aware, I _will_ say 'I told you so' very loudly," Snape snapped, swirling his cloak around his shoulders and folding his arms in disgust.

"It just seems a little extreme when the obvious damage is far below."

"Where was the original curse site? Toes, was it? And how much did you slice away? So, am I to understand that you have been carving off his leg in two inch slices over the last how many weeks? And you accuse me of torture! The irony is delicious!" The low voiced scorn made everyone wince. Shaking his head in disgust, Severus Snape stalked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 06 -

The corridor was bare and empty as Severus stamped his feet, fury at his judgement being questioned causing his blood pressure to rise alarmingly. Turning at the end in a swirl of robes he almost tripped over someone who exited an unnoticed door on his right. The person fell over and landed with an undignified 'oomph' and a clattering of wood. Startled, Severus looked down then smirked at the sprawl of robes on the Floor.

"Graceful as ever, I see, Potter," he murmured, holding out his hand then almost flinching when he remembered the boy was now as blind as the proverbial bat. Reaching down, he grasped the boy's collar and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet while the boy, no, man spluttered and struggled. "Oh, do behave, you idiot," Severus reprimanded as he steadied the man. "I have never met anyone who was so graceful on a broom and yet could not keep two feet on the ground without tripping over invisible obstacles every five seconds, except perhaps Nymphadora. Well, what do you have to say for yourself, instead of grinning like an idiot? Cat got your tongue?" Severus demanded after a few moments silence.

"No, Sir, I was just enjoying the nostalgia. A good old-fashioned rant, courtesy of Severus Snape, is an occasion to be savoured. They are so rare these days." The young man laughed, straightening his robes and dark glasses.

"Cheeky boy!" Severus replied with a bark of laughter. "How have you been keeping?"

Harry sighed. "Oh, you know, worshipful crowds, public pity-parties, howling groupies…" He smiled as his one-time nemesis laughed for the second time. "Seriously, Ginny and I have just returned from our honeymoon and have bought a rather rundown house in Muggle London, away from the adoring fans. Ginny wasn't feeling too well and because she is Mrs Boy-Who-Lived, everyone went into a flap and insisted she come up here and get ready for a full physical. I personally think it's most likely the stress of trying to redecorate the old wreck of a house we bought, too many renovation charms. I don't think she and Hermione have had one day free from interior decorators, workmen and delivery people since we arrived back in the country. Do yourself a favour Severus, never allow anyone to dictate how you plan to decorate your dungeon. There are some _weird_ designers out there!"

"Yes, stress can eat holes in your guts, believe me." Severus agreed with a shudder. "Does she need some sort of calming medication? I could probably do her a potion or two, or even a cheering charm, although they were never my best spells."

It was Harry's turn to laugh, the mental picture just too absurd. He was about to comment when the door behind him was pulled open abruptly, causing both wizards to turn with their wands out instantly. The Medi-witch squeaked and staggered aside, leaving a clear view of the bed and the red haired young woman lying there with arms folded mutinously. She met the black gaze of her former teacher fully and defiantly before clicking her tongue in exasperation.

"Have you found the idiot Medi-wizard and are we done yet?" she asked flatly.

"I don't know, Ginny, are we done?" Harry asked with a cheeky grin and _accio-ed_ his stick before tapping his way back inside the well-appointed examination room. Severus hovered for a moment but his arm was caught and he was dragged inside before he could make a rational decision.

"Professor." The red-head acknowledged before turning to tut at her husband. "This is ridiculous, you know, there's nothing really wrong with me that a little calming draft will not cure. I've told them and told them but they just keep telling me to hush and wait until the Medi-wizard comes to examine me and order some tests or some such rubbish."

"You're just back from your honeymoon, humm, Potter? You may have caught the Ra fever," Severus murmured softly, causing the woman to stop mid-rant.

"The… what?"

"Ra fever, you know, the Honeymooners and clubber's disease, really prevalent amongst both groups. The worst of it lasts about nine months but the consequences are ongoing for the rest of your life." He watched their blank faces with a smirk that only Ginny could really appreciate. "The difference between Contraceptus and conceptus is 'RA', you thick wits, something honeymooners and drunks are too baffled to remember," he informed them smugly and watched as Ginny blushed bright scarlet and Harry's ears turned a fetching shade of pink. "_Acclaro Foetus_," he intoned, pointing at the girl. A soft golden haze enveloped her belly then blushed a bright pink before fading away. "A girl, two to three weeks along. Congratulations, you are not the boy-who-lived but the man-who-procreated. Merlin help us all, _more_ Potters!"

Both young people let out a squeal of pure delight then flinched as a spell flashed in the room, Harry reacting only a millisecond before his wife. The Medi-witch looked a little dazed as Severus shrugged and slid his wand away again, the discrete _Obliviate_ only just registering on the couples' minds.

"You really didn't want that piece of news touted all over the Daily Prophet, did you?" Snape asked at their questioning looks.

"I suppose not but…"

"He's right, we get enough unwanted attention without that." Harry cut off his wife's protest with a grim nod. "Thanks, Severus. So what tests did the Medi-wizard want to do on you?"

"He seemed more interested in getting someone more skilled in the Dark Arts detection to look for curses and dark magic than actual ailments," Ginny replied disgustedly. "Quite idiotic, really."

"There's a lot of paranoia left over from the war. _I_ would look for curses first but I would have thought medical personnel were more sensible than that," Severus mused then jumped as both young people yelled 'constant vigilance' in harmony then fell about laughing. "Quite," Snape smirked as the door opened again and the Medi-wizard came in, astonished to see the black clad man with his patient.

"Oh, forget it. Professor Snape gave us some calming draft and I feel a hundred percent better already. There is no dark magic or curses on me, just too much stress over our building renovations," Ginny snapped, quickly re-transfiguring her robes and swinging her legs off the bed decisively.

Both medical personnel waffled and exclaimed as she took her husband's arm and allowed their ex-potions professor to usher them out the door.

"You must come for tea next Saturday afternoon, Severus, we will open the Floo for you," Ginny informed the professor and it was not an invitation but an order. "Oh, and you may inform Professor Dumbledore of the development, I'm sure you will enjoy that," she added with a very fine smirk of her own.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note;** Guys, I didn't stop there, I promise, cross my heart. However, this is the last chapter of this section of SVW so, please, enjoy!

Chapter 07 –

Snape stood on the balcony, flanked by Kingsley Shacklebolt and Potions Master Woodwhistle, looking down into the operating arena below. A mixed audience of Medi-wizards and healers were scattered about chatting to each other or reading magazines while they waited for the team below to bring in the patient. There was a strange feeling of déjà vu swirling around Severus' mind as he glanced around, half expecting to see Antonin Dolohov reading a magazine instead of a slight, blonde Medi-witch studiously writing notes. He almost expected a central throne holding pride of place instead of rows of comfortably padded seats. Kingsley could feel the tension in the thin man beside him and nudged him with a querying noise.

"Just memories. The place is set up like the torture chamber in the Lestrange castle, with a spectator gallery above it, and I keep half expecting to see Tom come sweeping in to enjoy the entertainment." He grumbled causing a terrified silence to fall over the audience.

Kingsley laughed. "Only you would think of something like that!" he dared teased slyly.

"Now, hold on a moment, a lot of good research came out of those sessions, information they use here at St Mungo's on an everyday basis, although they probably do not acknowledge the source," Severus protested but was cut off as the surgeons wheeled in their patient and prepared to remove most of his leg as Severus had suggested.

It wasn't as noisy or as bloody as the torture of Muggles but the levels of excitement generated in the audience were very similar, even if their purpose was slightly different. A couple of tense discussions broke out between the students gathered to watch while others simply stared down intently, determined to absorb every last nuance of the action.

Kingsley had to acknowledge the Potions Master's knowing and self-satisfied glare was warranted as the operation progressed and the cursed flesh was excised. Even as they cleaned up the remaining stump, a wisp of green curse light seemed to emanate from the dish holding the excised flesh until the Master Surgeon incinerated it in disgust. At the end of the exercise there was no trace of the dark curse left in the man's upper leg or in his aura. The surgeons announced a complete success to the watching students and called for questions as the still blissfully unconscious patient was wheeled away to recover from his ordeal.

Turning on his heel, Severus barely managed to bid a quiet farewell to Kingsley before he hurried out to the Apparition point. With luck, he could get back to Hogwarts before memories of past horrors could overwhelm him in such a public place. He longed for his quiet dungeons again with all the fervour of a convert.

oo0oo

Appearing at the gates of Hogwarts, Severus dashed up the garden paths hardly registering the magnificent view as he headed to ground where his house-elf waited with a pot of strong tea and a cosy fire to drive the demons away from his mind. A lot of his restored memories were merely bare frameworks in his mind without emotional content until something triggered them and the tightly spell-packed emotions and details flooded through the matrix adding colours, smells and emotions to the armature. Sometimes it was an enjoyable experience, like living something all over again with the intensity of a brand new experience. Unfortunately, the bad memories came flooding back in exactly the same way and it was incredibly hard to experience some of the horrors in all their technicolour detail! The dungeon experience had been one of the less pleasant experiences of his life but certainly not the worst. Still, it gave him the shakes.

He had barely managed a sip of his tea when the fire flared green and Albus stuck his head into the room like a curious white sparrow. Waving him through, Severus called for another cup and waited until the headmaster was comfortably settled in the opposite chair before he began to ignore him studiously.

Albus allowed the treatment for some quarter of an hour, keenly observing his Potions Master until he noted that his hands no longer trembled. "Was it so very hard to go back to the scene of your latest misfortunes?" he eventually asked solicitously.

"Somewhat," Severus began, having given the question some serious thought. "We did so many horrendous things in the name of superiority but sometimes, just sometimes, the research we did, as distasteful as it was, proves to be invaluable in the current situation. If I hadn't helped Bella with her experiments into curse removal then I would not have known how a particular curse worked. If I had not used any guinea pig available then I would not have known how to brew a potion to destroy the Maggots Plague curse or that the Creeping Green Deadly Never-Get-Over curse was immune to potions and could only be lifted by cutting it out of the flesh completely." Severus sighed and scrubbed his face with both hands. "Unfortunately I had another trigger memory and nearly flashed back when we were watching the operation. Thank Merlin, Kingsley knows better than to ask inane questions and when I say I have to go, I have to go."

"He is a good man, isn't he?" Albus agreed with a grin of self-satisfaction. It was nice when Severus admitted there were some people worth knowing in the world.

"Saw Harry Bloody Potter there, too," Severus added then sipped his tea provocatively while Albus waited impatiently for him to go on.

"Well?" The older man finally prompted when the silence dragged on for too long.

"Seems to be, it was Mrs Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-a-Bloody-Nuisance who was under observation."

"Ginny? What was wrong with Ginny?" Albus asked, silently praying it was nothing serious.

"The Medi-wizards seemed to want to check her over for dark curses or jinxes, usual panic merchant stuff," Severus mused softly, glancing under his lashes at where Albus was strangling his teacup in a bid to stop himself demanding answers. "Turned out it was not fatal, just long term and guaranteed to give everyone in the world a headache for many years to come."

"Well, man, what was it?" Albus finally demanded impatiently.

"RA fever," Severus said, sipping his tea.

Albus blinked, then blinked again. "Ra… Pregnant? How wonderful! Severus, that's splendid news!"

"Only if I can retire before then? Or you plan to pay me danger money!"

Albus was too busy tossing Floo powder into the fire with a barely suppressed cheer on his lips to dignify that last remark with an answer.

**End**

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**Afterword by Me:** And there you have this chapter of SVW. For those of you who were worried that the Chapter 6 was the last chapter, nope, have to round things off properly, really, you do. All I can say is thank you so much everyone who read and for those who reviewed, thank you even more, I always appreciate feedback, feeds the inner Slytherin nicely, vain creature that he is. To new readers:

PhantomChajo, dverducci, Myene, Olikard, InvaderV.A.M, RebeccaRoy, Moreteaplease, Aubr, WickedMagic, Dayd, Zafaran, realistjoker, SpencerReid, korrigan1112

I hope you enjoyed my version of hte Potterverse. To return readers, Hi again, and thanks for hanging in there, Snape's Nightie, Fmh, Silverbirch,

Zarathustra46, Well, Hon, what did you thinkof the finished product, not too shabby I hope. Thank you for your excellent beta-ing efforts and your encouragement. Yes, you were right, posting it was the thing to do, many hugs and kisses to you!

**Now a shameless plug.** If you enjoyed my Snape-centric potterverse, have a look at my other stuff starting with Snape the Younger. Just ignore the horrible intro as I am terrible at titles and summaries. The story is not too bad at all, as long as you are not offended by slash, bad language and a Dark Lord who isn't all bad. See you next time...

Regards

Les.


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